


Leave It On

by alex_wh0



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew is impossibly turned on, Bandana play, Exy gear, Fluff and Smut, He refuses to admit it though, Kevin is collateral damage, M/M, Neil has a bandana, Smut, The little shit, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 11:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22969150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_wh0/pseuds/alex_wh0
Summary: Andrew realises that he doesn't hate Neil's stupid foxprint bandana all that much. He might have ideas. Neil's here for it.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 17
Kudos: 323





	Leave It On

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on godot's [headcanon](https://twitter.com/godot_hoe/status/1233647670503211009) on Neil's Exy bandana. 
> 
> IDEK WHAT THIS IS THOUGH. Thanks for reading! xx

Neil stood in the doorway of his dorm room, one foot inside, one foot outside, talking animatedly to Dan, probably discussing their match.

The Foxes were all gearing up for the party in the basement. Andrew took a moment to study his profile -- lean, long legs, the jut of his hipbone, discernible through his team jersey, adam’s apple breaking the smooth line of his throat, the burn scar on his left cheek, the hair curling at his temple – and stilled. It hit him a little belatedly, a little with the force of a sledgehammer, that Neil hadn’t yet changed out of his Exy gear. He noticed with renewed interest the way ‘Josten 10’ stuck to his back, showing off his muscles, and his mouth ran dry. Adding insult to injury was the black bandana keeping his hair out of his face.

Andrew vividly remembered Neil’s face when one of the Foxes had gifted him the bandana – black with orange paws meandering along the border. “It’s a fox bandana,” he had gasped, looking at it with a mix of reverence and childlike wonder that annoyed Andrew to no end. “It’s just a bandana, Neil,” he had said, indifference seeping through every syllable. But, Neil’s enthusiasm did not flag that day. He had just wordlessly shoved the offending piece of cloth in Andrew’s face again, silently saying, “LOOK” while his eyes burned bright and amused. Andrew had to force down the tingly feeling in his chest that threatened to bubble out.

Now, he noticed with a healthy amount of devastating certainty, that he rather _liked_ it. Especially the way it wound around Neil’s head, bunching the wayward curls neatly into place, the way it passed behind his ears and fit snugly behind his head. Neil stood there, a short, sweaty mess and all Andrew wanted to do was lick him into incoherence. _Damn the stupid bandana._ He stormed into their room, slamming the door shut. It wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do to be jealous of a piece of cloth when he had Neil to himself most of the time anyway.

A moment later, he heard someone shuffling on the other side of the door and then a knock came. “Andrew? Can I come in?”

Andrew stared at the door sullenly. There was no reason for his mood and he couldn’t place a finger on _why_ he felt the way he did, but on the other side stood Neil. _Neil._ He cleared his throat and called out a gruff “come in” and buried his face into his pillow. He heard Neil’s footsteps go to their wardrobe, and peeked out.

Neil didn’t seem to find anything amiss. “Andrew, I know you hate the party, but I’m going to head down for a bit and swipe a bottle of rum for you.” He turned around to look at him when there was no answer. “Andrew?” Now a little more uncertain, and Andrew _had_ to look up. “Yeah, junkie. Rum’s fine.” But Neil cocked his head. “What’s wrong?” Andrew deftly evaded the question with a “why are you still in your gear?”

“Kevin wouldn’t shut up about technique. I had to escape or be subjected to 101 ways in which I could have played better, so yeah,” Neil finished lamely, wrinkling his nose. “Mm,” was all Andrew said, but Neil detected the undercurrent of amusement in it anyway. Andrew watched as he stripped off his jersey, his shorts and finally, _finally_ , his bandana.

“I’m using your shampoo, okay?”

“You hate it.”

Neil shrugged, “I don’t _hate_ it. I can’t hate anything that smells like you.” Andrew wanted to throttle him in that moment, but he just burrowed deeper into his bed. _Idiot._

Twenty minutes later, after Neil had made his way out of the dorm, gently demanding a kiss, Andrew sat up straight. _I can’t hate anything that smells like you._ He stole a look at the discarded clothes on the floor and then looked back at the underside of the bunk above him.

 _No no no no._ He won’t do it, he won’t, not without Neil knowing. But when he got off the bed to lob Neil’s exy gear in the laundry, he couldn’t resist nuzzling his face in the jersey. It smelled like Neil, the scent clean and strong and overwhelmingly familiar. Andrew took another deep breath and picked up the bandana. _I can’t hate anything that smells like you._ He just scoffed.

**

Neil’s breaths came fast, hitting Andrew’s left cheek softly, as he writhed beneath his expert hand.

“Andrew,” he gasped out. “Kiss me.”

_And what could Andrew do? Say no?_

Andrew kissed Neil deeply, one hand around his cock, pumping furiously, one snaking behind his shoulders, tugging the hair the nape of his neck. Neil gasped and whimpered into Andrew’s mouth, stilling as he came, body arching off the bed, toes firmly planted on the dark sheets. Andrew bit his lower lip and sucked on it and met Neil’s eyes.

Andrew drunk in the view, the shirt rucked up Neil’s chest, revealing pink nipples and a multitude of scars, his shorts and boxers pooling around his ankles, slow, lazy smile incinerating all his thoughts. He stilled when he saw the bandana on his head. Andrew had waylaid Neil when he had gotten back from his run and kissed him senseless into the mattress; he hadn’t noticed. _He hadn’t noticed._

“Junkie,” he rasped out, for some reason feeling shy. _Hesitant, not shy, his mind supplied angrily._

“Mm,” Neil mumbled, blissed out and sated. When Andrew didn’t respond, he cracked open one blue eye to look at him. “What is it?”

When Andrew didn’t respond, Neil propped himself up on his elbows, concern furrowing his eyebrows. “Andrew?” he said gently.

Andrew pushed him back on to the bed and pulled his shirt down, smoothing it over with his fingers. “The other day, you came back to the dorm in your Exy gear, remember?”

Neil frowned. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

Andrew paused, his thumb rubbing slow circles on Neil’s belly, and continued, “I kind of wanted to bury my face in your clothes,” he bit out, as though rushing the words out would make them disappear into the air between them. “I didn’t do anything because it felt wrong,” he said, finally finding the courage to drag his gaze back to Neil.

Neil smirked. “Why did it feel wrong?” Still smirking.

Andrew felt the back of his neck grow hot, but he rolled his eyes nevertheless. “Because I didn’t have your consent.” Neil’s smirk slipped off his face, but his eyes remained shrewd. “What if I give you permission?”

“I’d still feel weird.”

Neil tutted. “Okay, choose an item of clothing.”

Andrew looked up. “What?”

“Pick something that I wear often.”

Andrew’s gaze snagged on the godforsaken bandana. Black with orange paw prints, wrapped snugly around his head. _No. Yes. No._

“Bandana.”

Neil’s eyes widened. “But you hate it.”

Andrew scoffed. “And I hate you.”

Neil reached up to take it off his head, but Andrew surged forward, pausing for a second, question hanging silent in the air, and kissed him. His fingers cupped Neil’s jaw, fingers rubbing against stubble. He trailed kisses up his scarred cheek, and sucked his earlobe into his mouth, biting gently on it, and Neil moaned, broken and wanton. He propped himself up on one elbow and proceeded to kiss the skin behind Neil’s ear and nuzzled the strip of the bandana that lay exposed.

It smelled overwhelmingly of Neil. Andrew hated it. Like he hated Neil; like he hated the way he looked at him when he thought Andrew wasn’t aware; the way he hated the curve of his smile – sometimes sharp, sometimes dopey, sometimes so genuine, it hurt.

Neil looked up at him, lips twitching. “I give you express permission to nuzzle my bandana whenever you feel like it.”

Andrew got off the bed and stalked out, tips of his ears pink, and Neil _laughed_.

**

“Let me in.”

“No.”

“I need my laptop.”

“No.”

“Andrew.”

Andrew stared back at Kevin, face impassive, jaw set, a steely glint in his otherwise blank eyes.

“I’m testing something out, Day. I suggest you don’t show up here till tomorrow morning.”

Kevin’s eyes snapped back to Andrew’s and he stormed off. He shut the door and turned to find Neil’s assessing gaze on him. “Are you sure about this”

“Do I ever do something I’m not sure about,” Andrew drawled, ignoring Neil’s smirk.

“Fine. Where do you want me?”

“Not so fast, junkie. Strip first.”

Neil flushed, but toed his shoes off, reaching up to take his bandana off, and Andrew stopped him.

“Leave it on.”

“Still hung up on this, huh?”

At Andrew’s raised eyebrow, he teased, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten the way I saw you yesterday with that thing on your-mmmpf.” Andrew shut him up with a bruising kiss. He _had_ to.

“Shut. Up. Now.”

Neil laughed and tossed aside his shirt and shorts, even as Andrew settled on the couch.

“Do I need to strip further?”

Andrew swallowed. Miles of scarred, tanned skin obstructed by a pair of boxers. “Yes,” he rasped.

Neil turned, hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and bent forward, slowly peeling them off of the curve of his ass. “Tease,” Andrew growled, and he turned to look at him, half a smile on his face. “Mm you like it.” Andrew couldn’t argue with that.

“Come here.” There was now miles of scarred, tanned skin, topped with a blinding smile and a black bandana with orange paw prints.

Andrew manoeuvered Neil into straddling his lap. Neil put his hands on either side of Andrew’s head and leaned in. “Where can I touch you?”

“Anywhere. No ass.”

Neil nodded and removed Andrew’s shirt. He methodically peeled his jeans off, grumbling at how tight they were, and Andrew suppressed a smirk. He shucked off his boxers and looked up at Neil. The streetlight lit up his hair, polishing it to a burnished copper, and Andrew marvelled at it helplessly. Neil held himself up so that there were a few inches between them, and Andrew eased him onto his lap.

“Neil, look at me.”

Neil brought his arms around his neck, like he was holding on for life, and Andrew held his hips in place, grip bruising. They were impossibly hard, cocks leaking precome, brushing tantalisingly against each other. Neil let out a shivery gasp and Andrew kissed him.

“Neil,” he whispered, the word coming out muffled as he moved to bury his face in the crook of Neil’s neck, breathing him in. He smelled the sharp notes of his cologne – musky and woody – and the clean scent of his sweat and something inherently _him_.

“Do you trust me?”

Neil nodded, looking dazed.

Andrew reached up to pull the bandana over his eyes, and Neil gasped. “Do you trust me,” Andrew asked again, softer this time. “Yes,” Neil said, voice hoarse.

“Pull it off whenever you want to.”

Neil nodded more enthusiastically, hand tightening around Andrew’s shoulders. “Yes.”

“I want you to ride me like this,” Andrew whispered right into Neil’s ear. He could feel the shudder that wracked his body, and held him closer, kissing his closed eyes over the bandana, rolling his hips in an unfettered rhythm and Neil gasped.

“Ride me into the next week, junkie.”

**

_Two weeks later_

The Foxes were huddled together in the lounge of the Exy stadium, tense and worried. Kevin didn’t bother sitting down, muttering stats as he rapidly paced back and forth behind the couch.

“Kevin, wearing down the floor isn’t going to get our score up,” Wymack snapped and Kevin came to a grinding halt. “We need four more. FOUR,” Kevin retorted, voice rising octave by octave.

“Josten will do his job, quit fretting,” came Wymack’s reply, a little softer, and they both turned to look at Neil. He looked distracted. Andrew had come in, and Neil turned automatically, attuned to his movements.

Kevin watched him freeze as Andrew took his helmet off. There was no place for distraction on an Exy court and Kevin got annoyed.

“Neil.”

“Hm?”

“Neil,” he snapped, and Neil turned, eyes flashing.

“What is it?”

“We need to play better.”

“I _know_ , Kevin,” he bit out, waving him off and proceeded to stalk after Andrew, who was for some reason wearing a bandana that set off his blonde hair.

“Where are you going? We barely have five minutes left.”

“That’s more than enough,” Neil growled, disappearing into the locker room, leaving a bewildered Kevin fumbling and furious.


End file.
